


To Pub or Not To Pub

by AnnieBurns



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: David Tennant - Freeform, F/M, Olivia Colman - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 08:01:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23847847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieBurns/pseuds/AnnieBurns
Summary: “We’ve never been to the pub,” Ellie’s face warmed into a wee smile as she looked over at him.He mused thoroughly, but quickly.“No.”“Oh, piss off – come on!"
Relationships: Alec Hardy & Ellie Miller, Alec Hardy/Ellie Miller
Comments: 37
Kudos: 133





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Picks up where season 3 ends. Centres around the idea that even if they were keen on each other, Hardy and Miller are both so stubborn by this point they wouldn't so much as peck if they weren't bladdered. 
> 
> What're your thoughts? Review for more!
> 
> Also taking prompts.
> 
> Annie x

“We’ve never been to the pub,” Ellie’s face warmed into a wee smile as she looked over at him.

He mused thoroughly, but quickly.

“No.”

“Oh, piss off – come on,” she leapt up and skidded around him, raising a hand to point him off the bench as if she was scolding her 3-year-old into bath time.

Taken aback, he seemed to both brace and mentally glue himself where he sat, “Whaddaya want from me, Millah? Piss _off_ , come _o_ -“

Before Hardy could quite finish berating her, Miller – with a few under-hand curse words – managed to drag him out of his seat, and with two hands at the small of his back, push him towards the local.

***

“Here!” Miller scooted a pint in his direction as she plopped herself down next to him.

Hardy was trying to take in their surroundings, whilst Miller was trying to take in as much drink as possible. Not until he’d noted 5 or so scruffy-looking men at the leaners, the couple by the door having a pub dinner and the wildly over-friendly waitress, did he turn back to Miller to see her pint wholly gone, and a cheeky grin on her face.

“Sorry – bit dehydrated, I s’pose,” her face watched his intently, smile fading and settling on a serious look. “Next round’s on you, no?”

Alec grumbled and turned on his stool, shooting her the grimace that only she knew meant: _‘I’m irritated… but not really’._

When he got back, Hardy could swear that his own pint had lowered an inch or two but decided against mentioning it – not that he’d have had a chance;

This is what he imagined Ellie used to do to Joe when she finished a big case. She talked about the twists, the two and twos she wished she’d put together earlier, how bloody tired she felt, all seemingly on a single 10-minute-long breath. As she spoke, he pictured it in her house, in her kitchen. Ellie animatedly showcasing her wins and losses as Joe chuckled and cheered her on.

He would have congratulated her, consoled her, cajoled her. Who did she share with now?

“Oi!” Ellie lightly whacked his sleeve, unknowingly pulling him back from her own kitchen. “Right, get that down ya. I need some fish and chips.”

Trying to hide his smile in the lip of his glass, Alec finished the last of his second standard in the same time it took Ellie to wrestle her orange jacket back on and throw the strap of her bag over her head. After a quick pause to settle the bubbles in his stomach, he propped his glass down and they both launched out of their seats.

The night air was crisp and allowed them both to feel their booze blankets starting to form. Despite having had late lunches, they neither of them wanted to admit quite how hard two quick pints each had gone to their heads. They both stumbled consecutively stepping off the pavement and silently agreed that a quick walk to the pier was probably of good use.

Ellie’s face scrunched up when they reached the ‘CLOSED’ sign of her favourite chippy, and Alec almost felt propelled to both comfort her and laugh at her based purely on how tragic she looked.

“Ah,” is all he managed, grumbling lowly, “S’alright. S’late anyway.”

Alec looked in the general direction of his home and grabbed for his phone, swaying a little. No call from Daisy, or work. Chloe was probably around. He hoped.

Then he heard a wail. He looked up to see Ellie’s face was suddenly pink and somehow already puffy, a few tears nestling along her jawline.

“Miller- Ellie, ah..” he sent a hand towards her but immediately drew it back, flinching and sidestepping, unsure quite how to handle the situation. 

Ellie shoved her hands in her face and started silently shaking, like a giant trembling orange. The image was too much, and Alec also covered his mouth, trying to stifle the snigger it aroused. He failed, and her eyes were quickly uncovered and piercing his.

“What?!” Ellie smacked him again, harder this time. “Are you seriously laughing at me, you twat?”

“M’sorry, it’s just – ya look ridiculous. You’re crying over some chips.”

She swiped at her tears with her sleeves, leaving her hands inside the fabric for warmth. He’d seen her do it before for hygiene, or comfort, but for some reason tonight it didn’t irritate him. It was a bit cute – if he was honest. And he wasn’t honest that often.

“You’re a shit,” she pawed at him again with her sleeved fists and he caught them both, giggling unabashedly. It’s not as if he was sure that they were both joking, but he was just tipsy enough that he didn’t quite care. He was having fun.

“Millah, give it a rest,” he demanded half-assedly between chuckles, “I’m sorry, okay?”

“You forget! I’ve legs,” Ellie slurred, hiking one up above her own hip height and swinging it at him like an opening gate. He quickly ducked, catching it on his shoulder and stretching back up.

Miller fell backwards and yelped before catching herself against their hands. 

“Oh, you _are_ a shit!” she almost hissed as she fought his grip.

“What? You _wanna_ fall backwards? Right,” Hardy leaned her back slowly and she protested with a few choice words. “Well, no more hitting. Okay?”

After a quiet whinge to herself, Ellie nodded childishly, a pout dominating her sulking face.

It was about then that they both actually took in the situation. Ellie’s hands in his, their bodies so close – let alone her leg bent up on Alec’s shoulder and all of her weight being held by him alone. She blinked at him as her pout dissolved slightly. He was _holding her_.

Rationally, this was a weird situation and a very bad idea. But Alec could also – rationally – blame animal instinct. He was suddenly tuned into how warm it felt to have her against him; how her eyes had softened. It was if they trusted him. Alec adjusted his grip, and Ellie was pulled a little closer in the task, just ever-so-slightly grazing across his pelvis. God, he’d not quite realised himself that he was hard until it touched her, and his eyes darted across her face, hoping like hell that she hadn’t noticed.

Ellie looked away. She’d felt it. All the laughter and the banter and the teasing ceased, halted immediately by the realisation for both parties that this wasn’t a joke anymore. Ellie’s face was almost as bright as her jacket by the time Hardy had finished reluctantly giving her limbs back, one by one.

“Miller, Ellie…” He gently placed her leg down and hovered below her on the pavement. “I’m sorry.”

“Yep,” Miller kicked back into action and stumbled backwards a little. “Gotta get back– my boys… you know. Night. See yer tomorrow.”

She didn’t look at him as she spoke, and it ripped Hardy in two.

He stood to watch her scramble up the cliffside path and fade into the darkening distance before he had even moved, unable to shake the feeling that he might have just ruined everything.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely comments and kudos! Apologies for the delay on Chapter 2 - I've been checking in on my parents over the last couple days and only just managed to finish it. 
> 
> I want to build this into something bigger, so please enjoy and send lots of critique!
> 
> Hope you're all safe and well.  
> x  
> Annie

Ellie’s morning was the exact same as it had been every morning for the last few months; she dragged herself out of the covers, showered quickly, tied up her hair and concealed the bags under eyes, before sweetly singing Fred awake. He’d been up twice in the night and, ever the Mum, Ellie cared more to be gentle with him today than herself.

By the time she’d wrestled some pants over his night singlet (still acceptable dress as far as she was concerned, despite the looks her father would give her) and calmly held his hand as he pottered down each step, Tom was already dressed and at the table, sluggishly spooning cereal into his mouth.

Grandad had heard the ruckus and already cut up some fruit for the sleepy wee boy, shaping it into a smiley face on his favourite plate. Ellie thanked him with her own smile as she slipped Fred into his highchair.

It was then that her phone beeped. She eyed it.

“Sorry, Dad-“

“A shout?” He crossed his arms.

“Ooh look at you! Could be our next DC,” Ellie chimed as she threw her bag over her head.

“It’s always something though, isn’t it?” Her father put on his disappointed face, “Soon Fred’ll be off to school and you’ll have seen none of him.”

It cut a little too deep. She boiled and inhaled sharply.

“What, you think I don’t know that?! You think I don’t _wish_ I could cut back my hours and actually give them a parent?” She bit at the inside of her cheek as if to stop herself and shuffled with a huff.

“I have to go. I’ll be back by dinner.”

Ellie pecked Tom on the cheek and smooched Fred apologetically, feeling all three pairs of eyes burning at her back as she left. As if she even knew whether she could be home at a reasonable hour; she needed to stop making promises. She only lets them down every time.

***

It was the local butchers – they’d had a break-in. Just a few pigs and a cow were taken, and only one broken window, so not too much fiscal damage. Ellie eyed the area momentarily before springing into action and slamming the car door behind her.

With minimal sleep and her morning cut short, she’d utterly forgotten about the night before. That was, until she saw Hardy.

She’d just made it inside, greeted a few SOCO, when in some awfully orchestrated misfortune she managed to spot Hardy just as he’d looked her way. He was blasé; nodding and continuing his conversation with the uniform next to him. She, however, felt her stomach hit the floor, and her eyes quickly followed.

“Millah!” 

She blinked herself back into the moment and casually walked over, looking to the uniformed officer who seemed to have been first on the scene.

“No cameras indoors, but the street-corner CCTV captured a white pickup – plates covered – pull into the back through the alley two shops down,” he pointed to the front window and left, both detectives' eyes following. “Geezer must have come on in, helped ‘imself to three or four pigs and a cow before loading them in and taking off down the other end.”

Their eyes followed his hand as it trailed from the left, to the back of the shop, and out the other end of the alley.

“Three or four?” Miller frowned.

“He’s just checking stock now,” Hardy grumbled, his morning voice gravelly as always. With a nod of his head he started into the back room, his DS closely behind.

After the butcher had confirmed four pigs were taken and Ellie had gathered the information she needed, Hardy assured him they would make a full investigation and be in touch as soon as they had anything for him. With that they left, Miller returning to her car and grouching to see Hardy hadn’t brought his own but instead hopped into her passenger side. He ignored her protests, as usual. Irritation was suddenly her friend, taking place of any nervousness or anxiousness from before. What a wanker. To not even mention last night, and then enter her space without so much as a word of good morning?

“Knob,” was meant to be a whisper, but perhaps came out a little louder than intended as she pulled into the high street. 

They sat in a sizzling silence for the entire trip. Miller had a million retorts swirling around her head should he pep up, but he didn’t. By the time they’d got into the office at 8 o’clock, she was ready to ignore him for the rest of the morning.

“No, get Katie on that,” Hardy ordered, knowing Ellie was heading to her desk to review the CCTV footage, “We need to wrap up the Winterman paperwork.”

After a quiet growl, Ellie instructed Katie on what she was after; tyre sizes, any detailing or mods - "modifications" she clarified -, glares from shop windows that might have highlighted the driver, etc. Katie dared not retort Miller’s very condescending instructions, glad to be back at work at all, and assured her senior that the information would be ready by 10am.

Ellie regarded her with a smile; “You mean 9. Thanks!”

With that Miller grabbed the stack of files on her desk just in time to follow Hardy on his stalk to Meeting Room 1.

The paperwork was dull and awful and awkward, with no unrequired conversation, and by lunchtime they both needed a break. Miller didn’t scold herself for enjoying Katie’s face as they emerged at midday, nor did she stop herself from taking pleasure in picturing the DC scrambling to inspect the footage and hurry along Digital Forensics to make sure they were both seeing the same things, only to sit with her unread write-up for a couple of hours.

Nothing exciting had come from the reel. Ellie hoped it would be an easy one after the heavy, draining case that Trish’s had been, but with nothing to go on she knew they’d have to spend the afternoon questioning dull stories out of dull people, all over a couple hundred quid worth of meat.

No, this was important. It was someone’s livelihood and _her_ job. It's not their fault she barely got 4 hours last night. She settled back in her chair and silently reprimanded herself as Hardy reappeared.

“Right, Miller,” he pulled on his jacket. “Come on.”

“What?” She groaned, plonking her head into her hands unashamedly and mumbling through her sleeve. “No, I need lunch. I don’t know about you but we humans need sustenance.”

“Yup. That’s what we’re doing.”

He was already on the way out before she looked back up, yelling something over his shoulder. It was indiscernible, but distinctively Scottish and hurrying.

And so she hurried.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... enjoy.
> 
> x  
> Annie

Ellie awoke to a tingle. It was somehow both warm and melancholy, stretching through her chest like a flower opening up to meet the sun. It took her a moment to notice that it came from her breast, most intense right at the peak of her nipple, before she quickly shot into awareness.

It was a finger – she opened her eyes to the darkness, unable to confirm with sight. Laying on her back, head delicately nestled against her right shoulder, she could see a grey outline moving slowly against a greyer backdrop. Unable to discern it she instinctively stirred, starting to push herself up onto her elbows when she felt reciprocated movement. She stopped breathing.

Beside her was the body that the fingers belonged to, right arm resting as a pillow under her tussled head. She was suddenly aware of the warm, liquor-laden breath against her ear as she noiselessly turned to inspect its owner. Her nose brushed against scruff, a sound and sensation she hadn’t been so intimately privy to in years; Not since her last winter with Joe when he grew his beard out to try to annoy her. She had whispered against his lips that the burning scratches only turned her on even more.

This person smelt cosy and inviting, and her heightened senses pushed her to unconsciously lean in closer. The lump stirred, another hand suddenly kneading at her bare stomach whilst the mindless movement on her nipple hastened, going so far as to pinch it lightly. She was in just a T-shirt, the feeling of both hands pulling it against and from her flesh a little overwhelming. Her breath sped, warming the whiskers that touched her lips.

Suddenly, he was on top of her, their mouths not yet kissing but breathing against one other. Hands grabbed for hers and pulled them over her head, making her feel as if she was in trouble in a way she’d not felt so enthusiastic about before. The danger of this moment was crushing; pure darkness, a booze-fogged brain, no idea where she was or who was gripping her wrists tight enough to bruise – though she could guess. But she didn’t want to; she didn’t want to be pulled out of this gorgeous, precarious moment. So, she was the one to make the first move, not with her lips but with her teeth. 

The kind gesture was quickly returned, and Ellie was suddenly gasping as a hand palmed right from her clit to the other side of her pussy. A leg slipped between and separated hers fully so that on the second trip from front to back, she couldn’t help but stretch along with the feeling through her spine, groaning deeply. 

With blind sensations humming, she could feel that she was already wet as two fingers parted the lips of her pussy gently, languidly pressing one slowly inside. Ellie moaned deeply as it stroked against her g-spot, quickly joined by another, and then another. She wasn’t quite ready when they were expertly replaced with the tip of a hard, twitching cock, and in surprise she jerked her hands free to pull closer whoever was near. 

The world disappeared momentarily at the sensation of purposefully being filled right up, and Miller’s animal instinct took over. She silently bit out for a shoulder, her neck being tugged back and a forearm pinning it to the bed. Thrusts began, making Ellie mew anew each time she didn’t choke, her composure quickly declining. The build-up was exasperated, and she heard ragged breathing turn to swearing, turn to yelling, but it wasn’t quite until he came that she heard it for certain. 

In a raspy, swallowed tone, Hardy screamed her name.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. The world is a strange place.
> 
> x  
> Annie

Ellie woke up in her own bed.

After a dozy couple of seconds she shot into alertness, sitting up quickly and immediately giving herself vertigo.

Fuuuck. Her head.

She placed a hand to her burning forehead and took a steady inhale. Yup, that was a hangover if ever she'd felt one, and _boy_ , had she felt one.

Her memories came back to her as she threw opened her eyes and darted them about; it was worth the gag-inducing movement to check that she was alone. She tentatively shuffled back against the headboard and looked down at herself.

A t-shirt, and.. She pulled back the covers to see her bare self, delicately continuing her investigation with her hand. God, she was still wet. She pulled the covers back further to see evidence of sex on her sheets. Oh god, it wasn't a dream. It was memories made vague and cloudy by drink, and before she'd even properly assessed the situation she decided it was the worst decision she'd ever made. After hauling herself up and hastily replacing the blankets on the bed, Ellie breathed carefully, tip-toeing her aching body into the bathroom.

To throw up, or not to throw up? It was a question she hadn't had to ask herself for a long time, but before she could answer, her head was in the toilet bowl along with last night's dinner. Pasta. Good to know.

She huffed back onto her heels and leant against the vanity cabinet. It must be Saturday. No work. No appointments. No Hardy.

Hardy.

Shit's sake, this was dire.

Ellie looked at her watch. 5.24am. She thanked dehydration for her early wake-up call and reached backwards to fill her rinse cup with water, quite skilfully she noted, without getting up. As she sipped cautiously at her fluids Ellie strained to remember everything she could muster.

Lunch. They went for lunch at the pub. _The_ pub. They sat in the same spot and had the same beer, but with an added bowl of chips, all of which Ellie ate herself and Hardy barely sniffed before stating he was full. But this leap. How did she get here?

Laughs. She remembered Hardy laughing. The foggy memory of a strange sight to behold made her doubt it for a second, but then she recalled more clearly. Hardy was laughing - a lot. They had pint after pint after pint, and in the way that others' might pee once whilst drunk and 'break the seal', Hardy had told a joke and made himself laugh and-.. that was it. Hardy was _joyous_.

Ellie grinned into her glass remembering the sight of his eyes squished up, mouth wide, a full belly laugh coming her way. Who knew he even knew how? That he could physically do it? The absolute muppet. Ellie recalled that being the moment she thought it was cute. He was cute. And then he wasn't.

She wriggled slightly recalling the taxi ride. She hadn't thought much about Hardy saying that they should share a car despite going to very different locations, nor did she think much of his offering to ride to hers for 'safety reasons'; then again she didn't recall having much thinking capacity at the time to begin with. What she could recall was the moment his hand touched hers.

They were side by side, slung about without seatbelts and singing along to the radio. She daren't think what the driver thought of them yelling like drunken kids on their first night out. Yellow by Coldplay brought them up to screaming-volume, a tune that Ellie held dear to her heart, and apparently Hardy did, too. When the bridge of the song arrived, and suddenly they had nothing to do but sit side by side, a hand softly found itself atop of hers. Ellie looked at it bewildered (and drunk) before following the arm up to see Hardy's face. It was dark, and steady, and locked onto hers in a way that she'd never seen before. She knew that look.

As he had leaned forward Ellie had leaned back, unsure. Hardy cupped her neck delicately to then bring her in with fervour, and from that moment it was fast. 

Flashes of groping and heavy sighs stirred in her head.

Ellie unlocking the front door and Hardy paying the cabby for the whole journey in apology.

Ellie stumbling in and Hardy following her up the stairs without a word.

By the time they were in her room, there was nothing for it. Shoes were off, clothes were strewn, and two desperate bodies were flung onto the bed.

They shared the role of aggressor but, fuck, Hardy played it well. Ellie recalled the moment she had decided to forfeit the part to him and from there it was foggy, probably around the time their last tequila from the pub had kicked in.

But the night-time tumble was raw.

They were a few hours less drunk and she could remember the feelings she felt. No, not only felt. Was given.

Sitting on her bathroom floor Ellie ruminated on those moments of heat and rhythm, a hand instinctively moving between her legs. Alec above her, his stubble against her cheek, his arm at her neck, his cock in her-

Fuck. Ellie's head throbbed and the pain halted her hand instantly.

What was she doing? It's _Hardy_.

Her friend. Her partner. Her boss.

Fuck. Sake.

No wonder they'd never been to the pub.


	5. Chapter 5

The screams of Fred and subsequent yells from Grandad ripped Miller from her nap on the bathroom floor.

Oh, fuck.

She pulled herself up as quick as her pulsing head allowed and - after steadying herself with a moment's pause - bounded out of the room and into the hallway, bumping into a sleepy-eyed Tom, thanking her drunken self for finding some underwear before her journey across the hall.

"Ugh, Mum!" He manoeuvred around her, backpack and football in tow. "You smell."

"Oh, thanks very much," she spit with a little more sarcasm than was necessary, holding onto a wall to steady herself. "Where are you going?"

"Football, duh," he yelled back to her and started down the stairs. "It's 10:30!"

Groggy didn't even begin to explain how Miller was feeling. Where did the last 5 hours go? And for god's sake, her neck was on fire. She'd slept on many bathroom floors in her 20s, but for some reason (she daren't say age) she almost felt like decapitating herself purely as to not feel the stabbing ache anymore.

Just as she peaked in feeling sorry for herself, her father appeared at the top of the stairs. She held her breath to ease her head - in preparation.

"What _are_ you playing at, missy?" He bellowed and advanced on her. Called it. "A selfish mother-of-two who works _all_ hours of _all_ days and comes home pissed as all daylight at 2am - _in the morning!_ \- with some bleedin' one night stand, yelling and laughing the house down, and then can't even get up in time to take her son to his football finals!"

"I'm sorry.. Dad, I-" she cowered slightly and shuffled towards her bedroom. "I'm sorry, please don't yell at me - just give me 2 minutes."

"What do you want me to do then? Ground you? Because that seems like it's the only thing that might work!"

"I'm moving.." she hissed as she stumbled through the door and slammed it shut.

"You pong like a brewery!"

***

Football was awful. It was wet and cold and awful.

Ellie tried to find any joy in it she could but all she could manage as far as enthusiasm went was to lean into Beth and try to keep her eyes open. Beth enjoyed the opportunity to - when Tom scored - grab her friend and shake her with excitement, eliciting a groan and gag from Ellie and a cackle from Daisy and Chloe in return.

When Tom’s team lost, Beth happily took on the role of Mum and consoled him with a big, warm hug and “can’t win ‘em all, mate”. Ellie smiled in thanks to her and gave him a careful hug herself.

“So, who’s the fella?” Beth whispered as they walked arm in arm across the field.

“What?” Ellie blinked at her, trying her hardest to act calm. Thank god for police training.

“Your dad-” Beth whispered and checked around them for eavesdroppers. “I heard him when you got out of the car.”

“Ugh, he’s just making shit up,” Ellie found him ahead of them and tried to pierce his back with her eyes, wishing in this moment more than most that she had magical powers. “I got back late from work again and drank a bottle of wine and he’s pissy.”

Her friend didn’t quite know what to believe but concern took over and she slowed them down a little.

“I know it’s not really my place but, you’ve been working late a lot, El. I know you’re always busy, but.. is everything alright? After Trish’s case surely you could take some time off? I’m sure Hardy and what’s her-?”

“Katie.”

“Katie! Surely she can cover you.”

“What, you saying I’m replaceable?” Ellie smirked.

“Don’t you deflect.”

“Don’t _you_ use your new terminology on me!” Ellie whined, pushing into Beth with a giggle.

“I’ll use whatever I like, thank you very much.”

By then they’d made it to the cars and Beth knew to gently halt the conversation - she didn’t need to give Ellie’s dad more ammunition.

“Pub lunch?” He both announced and asked the group.

“Dad, I don’t think-” Ellie started, but guilt stopped her.

“Whaaat,” Chloe feigned a whine to Daisy. “We only came for the chips!”

“Ah, I think these guys need to get home, sweet,” Beth gave her a squeeze, eyeing Ellie apologetically.

”No, no,” Ellie stood up straight and looked alive, not wanting to ruin anyone’s fun; they all came out just to see Tom play after all. “Let’s go! I could murder an English.”

That part was true. The grease of sausages and fried eggs suddenly seemed worth making conversation for another hour or so.

“If you’re sure..”

“Come on!”

***

The full English, once in front of her, didn’t seem so appetising anymore.

Ellie was suddenly nauseous and had to politely excuse herself to the bathroom to have a little tactical vomit - taccy vom, as she used to call it. After the relief set in, she was ready to devour her fried tomatoes then see how she went but as she walked back past the bar she froze.

He was there. Standing at the table. Even on a Saturday when he was in slacks and a loose button up, she knew his tall posture from a mile off.

She suddenly wanted to run: Dad could take the kids home, it'd be fine! No - that's stupid. That is not the way to deal with situations and she’d been absent enough.

Don’t be weird. Just go say hi and deal with it later. He won’t say anything, it’ll be fine. 

Ellie swanned over with as much composure as she could manage, taking her seat and checking on Fred and his beans on toast as they continued.

“I’ll walk home later, pleaaaase,” Daisy was besting her father with sass alone. “We’ve only just got our food.”

“I’ll drop her back later, no worries,” Beth soothed and looked to Ellie, who was face down in her breakfast, bearing witness to her sausages like they were the most interesting thing in the world. 

Beth’s eyes darted back to Alec who - despite usually rough appearances - looked especially worse for wear this morning. 

“You alright Alec?” She queried, keeping her third eye on Ellie. “You seem a bit off.”

Ellie knew her friend well enough to look up, and instead gulped down a tomato nonchalantly.

”Yeah, fine, just a late one with work.”

”Ah, El said. Sounds like you both need some extra time in the day,” she looked to Ellie and Alec followed. 

“Speaking of, Miller, I need to talk to you,” he shuffled on his feet, looking back to Beth. 

“What, now?” Ellie stared into him. Shit - he did look worse for wear.

“Yes, now.”

Oh fuck, this wasn’t the plan. He can’t be serious. She can’t say no in front of everyone like this - _that_ would be weird. But she hadn’t time to process, to prepare, even to actually remember what happened last night.

As she slinked out of her seat and followed him outside she desperately ran through it all: work, drinks, another drink, Hardy talking about tequila and Ellie buying a round to taunt him, drinks, drinks, that god-awfully cute laughing and then she leaned into him (shit is this her fault?), more drinks and laughing and taxi and hands and kisses and stairs and ... blur.

Just blur, and then the tousles in the dark.

As they closed the door behind them, Ellie could feel her heart do jumping jacks inside her chest. It’s not like she hadn’t thought about this scenario before, but she didn’t quite know what to do when she got here. And now she was here and he was there and she could suddenly and palpably remember how it felt when his stubble scratched across her th-

“Gotta interview the apprentice butcher today. He’s off on holiday next week.”

... Really?!

That was it?

No mention of the wild, intimate night behind them, just: we have some work to do. Ellie couldn’t believe it and stood agape. _He_ was the one who would have woken up in someone else’s bed and made the walk of shame back home - only he seemed to have no shame at all.

Only a couple of moments passed before she turned, quickly and on her heel no matter how nauseating it was. She hoped he could feel her fire. 

“Miller,” he yelled after her. “We need to do it today, just come on-”

She emerged from the pub with her bag and jacket, a look of absolute pissy-dom plastered on her face and, “your boys deserve a mother!” being thrown at her from behind. This was not the Saturday she wanted no matter the Friday she had, and she didn’t say a word as she headed straight toward Alec’s car. 

If you listened closely, you might have heard a whispered “knob”, but who’s to say where it came from.


End file.
